Bright Lights
by CooperGirlHH
Summary: Months have passed since the defeat of the White Witch. Winter comes back to Narnia and with it comes the pain. A Susan/Edmund sibling fic. One-Shot. Reviews welcome! :)


**Bright Lights**

 **Summary:** Months have passed since the defeat of the White Witch. Winter comes back to Narnia and with it comes the pain.

 **Author's Notes:** I know it's been done before ... but here is my version ... I hope you'll enjoy!

This takes place very early into the Pevensie's reign in Narnia and its before the events of my fic **_The King's Quest_**. I wanted to write an Edmund/Susan fic for a while, and here it finally is, looked over by _**LydwinaMarie**_ \- my thanks to her for taking the time!

Please share your thoughts with me after you've read this :)

XXX

 _A Heart That Hurts_

 _Is A Heart That Works_ *

X

It was winter again in Narnia; the first natural winter in a hundred years. Snowflakes danced over the facades of the great castle of Cair Paravel, and down below, the grey, cold sea moved calmly in gentle waves. All was covered in a fine layer of beautiful, innocent white, and inside the castle the fires cackled, keeping its inhabitants warm and cosy.

A young king sat in his chamber on the broad, low windowsill, staring out at the gray sky; he had knees drawn up to his chest, hands clasped tightly on top, and was chewing absently on the knuckles of his right hand, which was lying on top of the other. It was a little painful, but it hurt much less than the scar did.

 _The_ scar.

It had been hurting from the very beginning. Ever since the sharp broken end of _her_ wand had sliced its way through his delicate young body, the pain it had caused had never fully subsided. Of course, the wound could be healed through a drop of magic cordial. But the scar remained – a constant reminder of his past mistakes.

It wasn't just painful; in the light of the summer sun it had looked enormously ugly as well. Edmund, though, didn't care so much about the appearance of it. Of course, when he and his siblings had bathed in the sea, he had been aware of everyone's eyes on it, but he had paid them no heed.

His sister Susan, on the other hand, had nearly driven Naideera, the castle's healer, mad with her inquiries on what could be done to make it fully heal. But Naideera was a centaur and new to the art of healing Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve. And her books offered no information on magical wounds, either.

And so Susan kept on worrying while Edmund tried his best to ignore the scar and the agony it caused him.

Over the summer months, the aching had dulled to the point where Edmund had barely felt it. Red and swollen on his otherwise pale skin, the scar had looked ugly as ever but the pain had been negligible. When summer had turned into autumn, however, the feeling of agony had returned and had slowly but gradually worsened as the weather grew colder.

And in the past couple of days Edmund had been in so much pain that getting up in the morning had become almost too much of a challenge.

Night after night, the young king would lie awake for hours, shaking and moaning – sometimes he would cry bitter tears into the silence of his room or use his pillow to stifle his sobs, always telling himself that he wasn't to complain; he had brought this on himself.

Ever since it had started to get this bad he had moved himself back to the chambers that were originally his – away from Peter. His sisters were sharing a room, still unaccustomed to the large castle, just like Edmund had done with his elder brother for a while. But he hadn't wanted him to become aware of the state he was in. Busy as Peter was, it worked well enough.

Training under the supervision of Orieus, their army general, had become even more of a challenge than it already was for the young king. But he blamed his constant mishaps on the weather; rain and morning frost had made the training lawn slick and slippery; his dizziness from lack of proper rest was well covered up.

It was more difficult to sit through meals, what with the Gentle Queen Susan being extremely sensitive towards her siblings' state of well-being. If there was no excuse to be found, there was nothing Edmund could do but eat as much of the portions his elder sister thought suitable for him as he could manage.

Or otherwise she would demand to know what was was wrong with him; and he wasn't ready to talk about it.

Not yet. Maybe not ever.

A knock on the door disturbed his thoughts. He wanted to say, ' _stay out!'_ The words were almost out when he stopped himself from saying them.

Hadn't he vowed to be kinder?

He called for the person to come in.

It was Susan. She carried in a plate of sweet smelling chocolate cake.

When she saw him sitting on the windowsill, her eyes narrowed and she moved closer until she could lay her hand gently on his back; it was a warm, tender touch, but he somehow found hard to bear.

"I had the kitchen staff make you some cake," she said, her voice kind and affectionate. "You've been looking a little unwell lately, and I thought you might need some extra energy… and if it comes in form of something sweet…"

Edmund heaved a deep sigh, willing himself not to move away from her touch. Half a year ago, he would not have cared to hurt her, but now he just could not bring himself to do it. He licked his dry lips and swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. "I'm alright," he finally got out, trying to smile but failing if her reaction was anything to go by.

"You should still have a piece of cake," Susan said encouragingly. It sounded cheerful, but the cheerfulness was forced. Edmund could distinguish a strain in her voice.

"I'm not hungry," he replied stubbornly, wordlessly willing her to go and leave him alone.

But Susan shook her head; if she thought it necessary she could be just as stubborn as he. "You ate little for breakfast, and you missed lunch. And not just today, it happens a lot lately." She shook her head and sighed. "Edmund, you're eleven; you have a lot of growing to do."

Pouting a little Edmund glanced at the cake, thinking that at another time it would probably have looked very appealing, but in this moment it didn't. He even despised the sweet smell that filled the room. "Can't you just go and bother someone else?" he huffed, no longer caring if his words were unkind.

"No," said Susan, eyes narrowed and lips tight. She didn't even look hurt by his reaction, just a little exhausted and … sad. "I am not going anywhere. Neither are you – until you've eaten. And talked to me about what is wrong."

He felt cornered. He didn't like being cornered. Edmund's temper snapped. "You're not Mum, Susan! Don't pretend you are!" He glared at her.

Susan lowered her head. "No, Edmund, you're right. I'm not Mum … Mum could always coax you to eat, when you didn't have an appetite, couldn't she? Using sweeties? As it seems, this doesn't work anymore - thanks to those cursed sweets _she_ fed you, I guess."

When Susan spoke of _her_ , Edmund winced and his sister saw it. "Oh, Ed, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned –"

"I'm fine," he interrupted her. "Stop fussing!"

"You're not fine." Her hand moved upwards until fastened itself in a tight grip on his shoulder. It was getting harder still to not shrug her off.

"I will be."

"Not if you don't start talking about it," Susan insisted. The grip on his shoulder loosened and she moved her arm around his waist, as if she wanted to pull him off the ledge.

He winced and couldn't help letting out a vicious hiss as pain shot through his abdomen, when her hand moved over the remains of that magic wound that had nearly killed him. Susan paled when she heard him gasp. She moved her arm so that she no longer put pressure on the hurting scar, and pulled him into a tight embrace with a little, abrupt tug.

Why couldn't she just leave him be?

But her warm embrace was comforting and before he even knew it or could stop it, a deep, painful sob escaped Edmund. He instinctively moved his hand up to his mouth, tightly balled into a fist and bit into it sharply, trying to stop the next sob that was about to well up.

It came out anyway, and with it came the tears.

"It's alright," soothed his sister, gently. She tightened her embrace and he suddenly felt very small in her arms. Helpless.

"No," he managed to reply. He didn't want to cry, with Susan holding him, like a baby. He didn't want to –

But then it all broke loose and he finally succumbed to the comfort she offered him. For the next five minutes he couldn't stop the sobs that shook him.

Once they subsided he tried to loosen her hold on him, but Susan held on just as tightly as before. Edmund found himself quite surprised at how strong his sister was when she lifted him off the windowsill with one short, swift move and put him to his feet. Then she lead him towards his bed, her guidance being gentle as it was forceful. He couldn't do anything but to oblige.

"Are you going to tuck me in now?" he asked and through the tears he felt a grin forcing its way onto his face.

Susan didn't reply. She made him sit on the edge of his bed and with her arm around his shoulders, she sat right next to him.

"Susan?" At the insecurity in his voice her grip on him got tighter.

"Shhh," she soothed. "You don't have to talk."

"But you said –"

"I just wanted you to admit that you're unwell. I think you quite clearly did so." She turned her head to smile at him. "I just wish I knew why it is so difficult for you to simply admit to it."

Edmund could only shrug; there was no explanation he could have given her.

After sitting for a while he began feeling weary. Sleeplessness had taken its toll on him and he felt it more keenly now than before. His eyelids were suddenly drooping and he only just managed to stifle a yawn. Susan noticed.

She stood up and turned towards him, laying her hands loosely on his shoulders. "Come on, Ed, get under the covers. You really need to catch up on some sleep."

Edmund nodded and for once obeyed without objecting. "Su?"

"Yes?"

"Could you please not tell Peter? About this?"

She smiled warmly and the look on her face reminded him of their Mum. "Of course I won't. This is just between you and me."

He was almost asleep, when she bent down to kiss his forehead.

The pain was still there, but much, much lesser.

While he fell asleep he thought just how good it was to have an older sister, just like Susan …

XXX

*From _**Bright Lights**_ (by Placebo)


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